Page 78 of Torn In Two

“Vincent and Nash aren’t even here,” I moaned through the burning ache spreading through me.

War grinned at me. “Just another reason I’m sure this one is mine. Push, baby girl.”

Kara squeezed my fingers encouragingly.

Grayson’s gaze steadied my heartbeat. “Trust me. Get up on your knees. Use gravity to help the baby’s head keep downward pressure. If she’s upside down, and we don’t have forceps or any other equipment, we’re going to need to use what we do have.”

There was no option not to. I might have never met the man, but he was calm when everything else felt out of control. I needed to trust someone. Grayson was it.

It was agonizing to move. My muscles all felt locked in place. I screamed as War and Hawk got me up on my knees and gave me their shoulders to brace my weight on. Kara wiped sweat from my brow, quietly telling me I was stronger than I thought I was.

I pushed. The baby slid down, the feeling inside me changing from ripping pain to an odd sense of relief.

Grayson gave a shout from the end of the bed. “I was right! She’s sunny side up! One more big push, Bliss. You have this. I’m just here to catch.”

I pushed, my screams turning to a guttural groan of determination as my baby slid from my body and into Grayson’s arms.

“Not a she after all,” Grayson announced.

Oh my God. A boy. I hadn’t dared hope for one. All I’d cared about was a healthy baby, and after two girls, the odds seemed on the side of having a third.

We’d all been fine with that. I would have loved a little team of girls to even out all the testosterone that came from living in a house with three grown men.

But this boy would bring us so much joy.

I collapsed against War’s chest, completely and utterly spent, my labored breathing the only sound.

The room was so quiet.

The realization was shocking. I twisted sharply. “He’s not crying!”

War gripped me tighter. Kara’s fingers twisted in the sides of her skirt and she stared at the tiny, vaguely gray-colored baby on the bed.

“Do something!” Hawk shouted.

The room swirled, panic and exhaustion threatening to take me down.

But Grayson spoke calmly, scrubbing at the baby with a towel he must have grabbed from War’s en suite. “Give him a moment.”

That moment felt like the longest one of my life.

One where my heart stopped beating. My lungs stopped breathing. And all I could do was will for my child to want to live.

His little cry pierced the air, and with his first gulp of air, his tiny body flushed pink.

Grayson grinned and lifted him to my chest, umbilical cord still attached. “Congratulations.”

I burst into tears, staring down at the howling baby who, just moments earlier, had me convinced I was never going to get to hear that sweet sound.

War peered down at his son and stroked a thumb across his gunk-smeared cheek tenderly, before placing a kiss to the top of my head. “You’re a rock star,” he said to the baby. “Just like your mom.”

There was a commotion outside, and Ice led the paramedics into the room. They got to work, monitoring me as I delivered the placenta, checking the baby, clamping the umbilical cord.

Hawk and Kara slipped out, and Grayson went to follow them.

I reached out and caught his arm before he could leave. “Thank you.”

He shook his head. “No need.”

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